The Formidable Earl (Diamonds in the Rough #6) - Sophie Barnes Page 0,111

feet. Good God, he could barely stand. His legs swayed and he grabbed at the railing to steady himself.

“I’m the Earl of Fielding,” he rasped. Swallowing against the sandpaper in his throat, Simon made his way toward the quarterdeck with uncertain steps. The captain was there at the wheel and—

“Where do you think you’re going?” a stern voice asked. It belonged to a stocky fellow who’d just stepped into Simon’s path.

Simon glared at him. “To speak with the captain.”

“He’s busy right now. Whatever you want to say will have to wait.” He gave Simon a head to toe perusal. “We’ve a schedule to keep and don’t take kindly to uninvited guests. Earl or not.”

Heat gathered at the base of Simon’s spine, working its way up into his head until it came to a boil at the top of his skull. “If you value your health, you will step aside this instant and allow me to pass.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “Threats won’t—”

Simon’s hand shot out and grabbed him by his cravat. “Now you listen to me. I have been through hell today. In fact, I have met with the devil himself. And I am not about to be deterred any more. Not after getting this far.”

The man sputtered and grabbed Simon’s wrists in an effort to pull himself free.

“Ho, there,” a thick voice commanded. “I need my first mate in one piece, sir. Release him, if you please.”

Simon loosened his hold and the man stumbled back, coughing and croaking while scowling at Simon with murderous eyes. Dismissing him, Simon turned toward the other man who’d spoken. The navy blue coat he wore with gold braiding, brass buttons, and epaulets on each shoulder left no question about who he was.

“Captain…” Simon murmured.

“Spencer,” the man offered. “And you are?”

“The Earl of Fielding. Here to free one of the prisoners by order of the chief magistrate.” Simon reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out the papers he’d been given. “I know you’re eager to depart, but I’d greatly appreciate a moment of your time. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Orders must be heeded,” Captain Spencer said with the seriousness of a man accustomed to hierarchy and regulation. “We can speak in my cabin.”

Appreciating his willingness to comply, Simon followed him below deck and through the passageway leading toward his quarters.

“You look like you’ve been through quite the ordeal,” Captain Spencer said once he and Simon were seated across from each other at his desk. It wasn’t a large cabin and there were only the two chairs. But it was enough to suit the current situation.

“Let’s just say I’ve had a few obstacles to overcome.” Simon handed the release order and the letter the chief magistrate had written to Captain Spencer. “Miss Strong has been wrongfully accused. She doesn’t belong on this ship, and as such, I would like for her to be released immediately so I can bring her home.” When Captain Spencer glanced at him with one raised eyebrow, Simon added, “She is to be my wife, the Countess of Fielding.”

A gruff sound left Captain Spencer’s throat. He scanned the documents and returned them to Simon. “My apologies to you both for the wrong you’ve had to suffer.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Nevertheless.” Captain Spencer stood. “I’ll take you to her right away.”

Relieved, Simon followed the captain down two more ladders to the deck allocated for prisoners. Simon raised his arm to cover his nose and hold back the smell he was met with the moment they entered the crowded containment area. The ship hadn’t even left London yet and already the air in here was thick with sweat and urine.

“Miss Ida Strong?” The captain queried. He was holding a handkerchief to his nose and mouth – most likely one scented with lavender oil or some other fragrance.

Simon scanned the miserable collection of people who’d have to live here during the coming voyage, and although he was sure most of them deserved such a fate, he could not help but feel pity. His gaze shifted, drawn to a movement.

A hand had been raised. “Right here.”

“Please come forward,” the captain said.

Simon watched while Ida attempted to stand, but there wasn’t much space. Her body swayed a little as she steadied herself. She looked up, her eyes found his, and the disbelief he saw there, the desperate yearning and love that lit up her face, caused his soul to weep for the horror she’d had to endure.

“Make way,” the captain ordered. He gestured to one of the guards,